


pull the trigger

by illmatchtheminrenown



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Crack, I'm not kidding, M/M, this is absolute crack do not take it seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illmatchtheminrenown/pseuds/illmatchtheminrenown
Summary: Gleb never thought of anything but revolution, until a mysterious man with dark eyes joined their forces.





	pull the trigger

**Author's Note:**

> Things happen in group chats. Then things like this happen. I blame everyone (except cos, she's always innocent. I usually am too).

Gleb had no idea what his father had gotten him into. One day they were at a meeting of revolutionaries, the next they were on their way to some strange man’s lair, assured that he could provide the spark the revolution needed.

When the man emerged, Gleb had to stifle a gasp. This man - Rasputin - was nothing like the holy man he had heard rumors of. This man was tall, with dark hair so greasy it had a beautiful gleam, and haunting eyes that fixed young Gleb in their stare.

“Vaganov. And this is your boy, I presume.” He spoke in a rough voice that was oddly soothing. 

“Gleb, sir,” Gleb managed to get out. Rasputin extended a hand, shaking his just a little longer than usual until Gleb broke eye contact.

“You know why we are here?” Vaganov asked.

“Of course, of course. What is it they say about the enemy of my enemy? You may take word back to your little friends… when the time comes, I and my… little friends… shall be ready to begin.” He smiled, a cruel grin that was nonetheless entrancing.

As they departed, Gleb asked his father nervously, “That man… he doesn’t seem like the sort of man our comrades would willingly work with.”

“He is not. But we have a common cause. And after that… the holy man can go to his god.”

The next day, Gleb went for a walk, as revolutionaries do when they need time to brood. As he turned down an alleyway to avoid the people on the street, he caught sight of a hooded figure watching him. Feeling a prickle - nerves or something else - down his spine, he went to investigate.

Before he could speak, the figure had him pinned against a wall. 

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you, boy?” Rasputin whispered, his beard tickling the soft shell of Gleb’s young ear. “What else are you curious about?” His hand slipped between them.

Gleb wasn’t sure what he muttered after that, only that he crept out of the alleyway ten minutes later feeling decidedly confused. Perhaps this man was holy after all - for else could he have access to such strange knowledge of the body and mind?

The dreams that plagued him only made things worse over the next weeks - dreams he dared not admit to anyone. But he soon became concerned with more pressing matters than the dark man who haunted his dreams. The revolution came, and went, and failed. And when it failed, the blame fell upon the sorcerer.

A dozen men lined up facing Rasputin, who slumped against a wall, his precious reliquary sliding out of his fingers. One soldier made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and almost immediately began trembling so badly he could not hold his rifle steady. Vaganov sniffed with disdain, dismissing the man with a flick of his hand. Instead, he gestured Gleb forward. Determined not to shake, Gleb took his place. Although there was a strange connection he could not deny, he also could not allow it. He clenched his strong jaw and refused to make eye contact.

Then he pulled the trigger, as he’d been told.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read my REAL Anastasia fic, I'd be very grateful. I swear I write much better than this.


End file.
